Staging The Scene
by clueless in seattle
Summary: Goren and Eames face a new challenge together


_**Disclaimer:**__All of the characters are the property of Dick Wolf. I thank him, the writers, the directors and all the great actors who brought them "to life" for our benefit. Any "liberties" I have taken with them is motivated only by my fond admiration (and a few personal quirks I will seek "help" for)._

_**AN:**__ This story is not set within the accepted "canon" for the characters as it is only officially portrayed by the TV series. So I get to "fool around" with them in ways in which they've never been portrayed, stretch the limits of that and totally suspend the "reality" that is "fiction" to start with…now there's a contradiction in terms!!! _

_(And yeah Goren I know the proper word for that is oxymoron…now go get some clothes on…I'm busy right now)_

_I was wondering how Bobby would deal with one of the things it's crazy to ever ask a guy to do…_

**STAGING THE SCENE**

When Alex Eames returned to the living room Bobby Goren was standing in the doorway, which tended to fill it with a guy of his size. Leaving her kind of peeking round him or under his arm to see inside.

All over the floor were a series of objects arranged in what looked to her a very particular way. Like there was some sort of pattern in the mind of the person who put them there. The distances between identical items so regular it was as if someone had taken a measure to them to ensure it was precise. She could also see how a space had been left all along one side. Between the couch and the edge of the array. As if leaving a gap just wide enough for one person to walk through. Almost as if it was inviting you into that space in a rather spooky and disturbing way.

They had seen it a few times before at crime scenes. It was what they called _"staging"._

"I'll leave this to you Bobby. This is your speciality not mine" she said "Head back there and see what I can find in the kitchen?"

He merely nodded which long experience told her meant that his mind was already lost among the objects some of which were so unusual only he could probably identify what they were. A glance over her shoulder as Eames walked away revealed Bobby getting out of his pockets some of those useful pieces of equipment he always seemed to have when he needed them.

She stood for another moment to see him glance at the paper he had pinned to his folder and then step into the living area with that determined yet still curious expression. Eames went into the kitchen thinking the floor could use a wash.

**Two Hours Later**

Eames placed the last of the John Grisham novels on the top shelf about which Bobby had expressed some distain. He could be a bit of an intellectual snob at times when it came to literature. Or had been until she'd discovered a full set of well worn _"Harry Potter"_ hidden behind dust covered Proust, Twain and the complete works of Ezra Pound at his apartment.

Bobby had his faults but ask him to do anything and you knew it would be done well. Her new bookcase was as solid as Mount Rushmore and as unmarked as when he'd removed the parts from their flat pack container two hours ago. The only man she ever met bothered to read the instructions for anything like that. The only guy who seemed to understand them, didn't assume that he knew better and followed each step in the right order. To the last letter.

Even if he did take one or two a little too far in his determination to get them right. So not only had he checked the _"contents list"_ as advised but done it twice making her tick off every one as he identified and counted them. Instructions and diagrams got clipped in his folder so they wouldn't get lost. He had placed each component on the floor in the order in which they went together in that slightly unnerving way she'd seen. But Bobby neither lost any washers or screws under the couch in the process nor had one left over at the end in that careless _"it's too late now I expect it will be okay"_ attitude most men had to such things.

Used glue where glue was indicated, not tried to drive in nails with anything other than a hammer as he'd given her a brief lecture on _"the right tools to do the right job Eames"_ and told her to pass it over please. If it said to _"turn part D one and a half rotations"_ that's what he did. Even using a protractor to be sure it was exactly 540 degrees not 538.

The only slight problem had been Bobby's insistence on evacuating all children under three years of age from the apartment block until he was finished with the job. When he read the warning about the dangers for them of choking on _"small components"._ But the neighbours were used to it from the time he did the same the day her couch was delivered and he'd seen the hazard warnings about them suffocating if they placed their heads into any of the large plastic bags the cushions were in.

Eames just hoped that her own instructions were good enough to enable Bobby to complete the last part of the manufacturer's advice to his rather high standards of satisfaction. To dispose of the packaging in a responsible manner and _"preferably at a re-cycling facility"._ One he'd located using the _"Yellow Pages"_.

If her directions were wrong he might be driving round her new neighbourhood lost until darkness fell. And Bobby driving down his own street in broad daylight was far more dangerous to children of any age than him with a bolt in his hands and the nearest toddler liable to choke on it three floors away.

He had already been gone an hour to make a return trip should only have taken a third of that time. If she got it wrong and Bobby got lost he'd be grumpy for a few days and she'd have to leave it a couple of weeks to order that new wood framed bed. Then ask for his help to assemble it at the weekend.

But Eames was a patient woman and just hoped she could exert the same patience when it came time to try it out. Safe in the knowledge that if Bobby put the bed together no way would it collapse under the combined weight of two people or when subjected to the kind of strenuous and long term use she had planned for it…and for him.


End file.
